Like Shiva the Hindu his feet were bound
In the rhythm of stars and of streams underground:
Banjo playin’ and de sanded floor,
Fiddle cryin’, always callin’ more,
Can’t help dancin’ though de preacher says
Can’t git to heaven doin’ no sich ways,
Can’t help dancin’ though de devil stan’s
With a pitch-fork waitin’ in his brimstone han’s;
Got—ter—keep—dancin’,—can’t—stop—now,
Got—ter—keep—dancin’, I—doan—know—how ...